


broken and built

by dreamyshadows



Series: amor vincit omnia [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyshadows/pseuds/dreamyshadows
Summary: sam and dean, all wrapped up in each other, forever and always.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: amor vincit omnia [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/67209
Kudos: 25





	broken and built

**Author's Note:**

> more random work i wrote years ago based on prompts.

10\. death

it’s funny, this. funny how dean carried the bomb but it’s _his_ heart that is heavy beyond measure, heavy beyond reckoning. heavy in a way that even god shies from his gaze. the world around him obliges his pain, begins to darken bit by bit, alludes to him his oncoming misery.

_he has done this before. he has felt this before._

it doesn’t help.

each pain of separation is new; each stab of a soul losing its half is new. this does not change. it cannot.

around him, everything disappears in a divine act. extreme sense and then nothing – one last flash of crinkled green before his own hazel, a gentle reminder of good. 

_reminder of love. reminder of life_. the sun shines bright, and sam’s heart begins its artless fall.

when the bullet pierces his flesh, his lips lilt on a smile; even in the vestiges of despair, his brother’s name will be the final omen of beauty. a final beat behind his ribs, a soft sigh. 

_this is the prelude to a lover’s demise._

_\---_

11\. peace and destiny

in the soft afternoon, the sun shines a halo around their heads. forgotten heroes who smile at each other like the world has forgiven them, like heaven and hell have finally given them their due. here on earth, they are only for each other. their truths, their lies, their breaths, their heartbeats…it is all an ode to the voluptuous love that stretches between them like golden string. 

fingers clasped gently on gleaming black metal, souls singing in unison, _here be paradise._ all the softness of the world has come still at this one point, all the levity and gentility and beauty winding itself around them; even the sky above seems to mold itself in their silhouette. 

love has never felt like love anywhere else, touch has never meant so much in someone else’s arms. _home_ has always been drawn out moans, elbows and knees, scars and kisses, all in this backseat. silence is serene. the quiet is calming, a balm to their hearts. 

in here, there are no separate souls. there is just one breath and one sigh, sinking into each other and repeating their names like a never ending prayer.

\----

12\. things you said when i thought i was asleep

lying comes easy to you, like a southern storm in the summer, like the dreams of freedom, like the stars on your brothers’ skin. when your eyes shut, your heart is still awake, the blood pumping through your veins, memories and wants keeping you from death. it is easy to miss, his voice. unlike his love, his tongue twisted words are softly spoken and barely breathed.

_ive loved you forever sam. ive loved you in every way known to man sam._ and your curse bound heart, the one that breaks every time he smiles, that splinters upon the idea of separation, it rises to the surface. you feel it stutter, feel it rise and escape your mouth, finally settle into the indentation where he houses your name. under your shuttered eyes, the world has begun to right itself, the stars in the sky have rearranged themselves to form your melded names _samanddean samanddean samanddean._

_god how i just want to touch you._ at the words, your bones restructure; before this, his name was carved into them through hidden means, now the brand is there for him to see, for him to touch and trace. this love is now free. it is now rising, the heart in his chest mingling with yours, breathing life into the dark cavern of your dreams. _i have loved you like this too. i have always loved you like this too._ and though it is unsaid, it is understood. 

your brother winds himself around you like the most beautiful of serpents, like the only benediction, the only absolution, and the only salvation you will ever need. you open your eyes, finally able to move beyond falsifications, into a place where truth abides by your lord’s wishes. 

\-----

13\. things you said that i wish you hadn't

here in this thunderstorm of bodies, he whispers his darkest fears against your lips. they grow into monsters before your eyes, tempt you, torture you, wind themselves around your aching heart. _this cant be a sin dean._ your eyes sing hymns against the skin of your cheeks, rain tracking pain across the age old landscape of your heart. 

he has always loved you like this. hazel blocked eyes with sunlight and darkness mingling, lips curling against words that are a very brand against your soul. _it hurts it hurts it hurts._ your blood burns inside your veins, bones creaking under the pressure of holding in an apocalyptic love. but your boy, oh he will never stop. he forgoes your pain, your sadness,and keeps on singing those unholy hymns, keeps on whispering syllables that strike your heart and cleave it in two.

now your life is no longer yours; it has been his from the moment he looked into your eyes, from the moment he mispronounced your name. in his bones you have built your home – his ribs are the only sanctuary you have ever known, and the light that shines under his eyes is the only solace you will ever find.

_love me dean, love me please just touch me._ and you do. oh god you _do._ broken hands worship the boy-man skin, score curses that bind you to him, blister his heart with the tears that dont cease to fall.

it is a love that destroys you. _it is a love that remakes him._

_\----_

14\. things you said too quietly

in the dark night of your lives, his voice uttering your name is your only hope. the way his flesh curls around soft syllables, enunciating them like a boon, like the only reason to be alive is your justification of a smile. in too small beds and too close quarters, you bleed into each other; your blood has always been the same, but your feelings have not.

_or so you think._

your green, green eyes have always been trained on your boy – on that kitten tongue, that lilting tone, that twisted heart. it is how you reason with your madness. with him as the object, even god would be tempted to bite the apple. but you, you are no god, you are just a brother. 

but sometimes the way he looks at you, you think there’s no difference after all. 

at night when the humid evening stretches into tragic darkness, sammy whispers things into your half-asleep ears with scalding innocence. his wants and needs have always left you gasping; from holding his hands to wrapping them around his aching flesh, it is simply another act of love and care. his only salvation is your make believe sleep. your make believe of how this never happened. _make believe, make believe, make believe._

your boy’s mouth reduces you to tears and you are tempted by eve in her true form. for a moment you think of adam, and your tears only fall with heightened fervor.

when sam smiles, you think of him again – that first man – and cry because _oh how could anyone resist temptation like this?_

_\----_

15\. things you said after it was over

intensity like this is short-lived. it twists and turns like a highway, like a never-ending road to oblivion, like the sweetest kind of sin. a love like ours is forever, but a life like ours is not – we are bound; souls melding, fingers digging into the chambers of our hearts, eyes never leaving each other. but these are ephemeral. they do not last. 

you die. i die. without leaving our bodies, we leave our souls. the world around us rains fire and thunder and the oceans rise to drown us; _we’re paying a price, dean._ a love like this cannot last – it will invite the wrath of all of nature, it will scar those who have not tasted adulation like this, who have not known the price of blood, the drive of obsession. _we must end it for the world dean._ a hero whispers his truth to another, folds in his love like a mutilated flower, bows his head before his lord and savior (his brother) and asks for forgiveness. it is a love that does not leave us. it is a love that has inked itself onto our bodies, our bones, our souls. 

_i know sam. i know._ and you do know – you do understand. you will destroy each other. souls as melded as these, leaving is being torn in half. it is the agony of a hundred suns erupting under your eyes, of your faith being broken from the spine that makes you take every step to your beloved.

_this is over. it should never have begun._

and those words are there, and those thoughts are there, but the feelings are only for each other. intensity is only for each other. my heart is yours, your blood is mine. they can take our love way, they can peel it away from our bones and they can spill it on the ground. holy pleasures can be derived from tearing us apart, but we, we will _remain._ our souls will splinter into the universe; every breath you take will bring me closer to you, and every time you sigh my name, all the good in this world will continue to sing.

\----

16\. things you said when you were crying

tears drip from his eyes like deluges, like storms, like the prayers you whispered to yourself when you were young. they are never-ending, these storms (these prayers) and they crush you with their lithe weight. 

sorrow smiles starkly in those golden tinted depths, ageless sadness rendering you speechless, bending your knees until they hit the rough ground. where his tears fall, there are grooves in the dirt, marking pathways to a beautiful place, to eden. _come with me dean, come with me, please just come with me._ his words are deceptive sweet, guilt ridden and all consuming in the way they pick at your heart – you want to go, you want to run away from the sunset that threatens to block the horizon in crimson streaks of sadness and pain. _i cant sam oh god i cant._

words form around your twisted tongue, ache to leave the cavern of useless heat; heat that the boy before you has tasted – has claimed for himself. just like every other crevice of your body, this too is his. but it is not enough; the way your back boughs towards him in times of light and darkness is not enough. how your heart stutters when he smiles is not enough; the kisses, the touches, they are not enough.

those hazel depths fold in, black rings releasing a putrid pain that permeates all of your being; in those silent moments, your boy says everything. so do you. 

he is gone, and now you are facing that sunset with nothing but fading cigarette smoke of memories, and an ache that rivals empty souls.

\-----

17\. things you said under the stars and in the grass

soft green grass, so much like the color his eyes, presses into your back and tickles every sense. in humid evenings like these, the world aligns itself perfectly, the stars above you rearranging to give you the love of a lifetime.

your love of your only lifetime is laid down beside you, artist fingers clenching and unclenching around blades of grass. little furrow between his brows at some unknown mystery that his soft mind cannot solve, boy-anger releasing on the ground below.

_why are there stars in the sky,_ his trembling voice falters, _why can’t they be with us, right here?_ his questions have always knocked the wind out of you, have always pressed your heart into odd twists that never untangle, have always wished for things to be different. he is no different now – and so you try, try to smile and make him forget those wise questions dripping from a little boy tongue, kiss him a little on the tip of his nose, on the lavender of his lids.

he does not relent, _tell me dean please, please tell me._ and you are so lost in that voice, in the hazel of those eyes, in the lilt of that body when it bows toward you like a sunflower in the wind; you make up some lies, stuttering on them, hoping the wise man in the little boy doesn’t catch your bluff, doesn’t despise you for never knowing enough. 

_it’s to remind us that we must always look up, sammy._ your voice fractures on the thought, and soft blond curls and warmth flash before your eyes. _true beauty belongs in the skies._

his boy stares at him with wide eyes, knowing always knowing, but silent. lashes flutter at the inky canvas littered with diamonds, furrow returning to the center of the world, burrowing deeper into the unmarred skin.

_you’re wrong dean, you’re wrong._ his words make your throat tighten, make your eyes water, and you think this is the end. little boy’s belief is what keep you moving through the battle torn field, through mundane tragedies of everyday life. 

_real beauty is you, not the stars. they don’t come close, dean. nothing does._

and he is in your arms, and he is in your heart, and for the life of you, your tears don’t stop, and your lips never stop saying his name.

\----

18\. things you said when the world ended

saliva strung lips, shuttered eyes, hooded souls; the aftermath of a collision long time coming. 

you and i are fisted in each other, warm cloth, cold air…the desire of a million years all concentrated at this one point, this one motel room, this one wall. stifling heat erodes my heart, fingers stroking the bones that hide my love from me. 

_i will rip it all for you,_ i tell him. he smiles and leans in closer, those saliva strung lips marking his love into my skin, painting his name into every corner of my being; before this, i was his. after this, i am nothing. we curl into each other, the wall shuddering under a love that will break everything – a love that will heal nothing but each other. it is like the world knows that destruction is upon it; there is no apocalypse as strong as the one trampling through our souls.

_i know you will – you already have,_ he replies, all soft smiles and soft hands, dimpled cheeks and a dimpled heart. in the galaxies of his lenses you see a new world, one that has already begun to burn. inside your mouth, your tongue has already shaped itself around his name.

_you are everything,_ i tell him, and he responds in kind, lips taking over lips, softly spoken love bleeding into my skin, keeping me alive. he holds me for months and years, until the world is spent, until heaven has fallen to hell, and until there is nothing but us – nothing but _this_ wall and _this_ motel room. nothing but this shell of a world. 

_let it burn,_ i tell him, and he laughs that devil in disguise smile. _let it burn,_ he echoes, and kisses me again. 

in his eyes, i have already found my paradise.

\----

19\. things you said that i wasn't meant to hear

the words are quiet, like they’ve been trapped under your tongue for a millennium, like they’re clawing their way up from your heart. unbidden, unbroken, and guttural, they strike me like lightning. 

the door creaks open, my hesitant fingers tracing wood when i hear you whisper your secrets like a confession, knees splayed open, an offering of the most beautiful kind. _dean dean dean dean,_ that is the prayer lighting the air above you, twisted fingers stroking yourself into a fervor. the eyes i have loved since before i could see are maelstroms of fire – they are swallowed by the black of desire, by the gray of sin.

_i am not supposed to be here, i am not supposed to know this._ the way your spine arches into a curve, the way your fingers tighten, the way your eyes widen; these are all forbidden truths that must remain tucked under my tongue. but with you so open, so wide, so beautiful, i am lost. 

it is salvation wrapped in sin, and when you lose yourself in my name and your hands, voice stuttering on familiar syllables, i am bound to this. this torture, this constant ache in my bones, alive now for all to see. 

_the door should shut now,_ i tell myself. _let the wood hide my sins, let it muffle the sounds of basking pleasure._ but it’s too late for me now, and too late for you.

your now-hazel eyes, pleasure sated and soul satisfied, look at me like you know everything; all my secrets and truths laid out before before dimpled cheeks and a soft mouth. there is nothing between us now, i remind myself. 

years later, you still come to my name, and now i come to yours. 

\----

20\. wishes to wish for 

in the calm darkness of his room, dean waits for the clock to strike twelve. _another year gone. another year of sadness and pain and loss to come._ he turns on his side, and yellowed images of a birthday cake, of a simple life, of non bloodied carpets, and non stolen presents come to mind. 

dean struggles against the onslaught of memories, tortured mind forcing himself to fall asleep. the images remain, this time following into his dreams.

— 

as always, sam brings pie and a new busty asian beauties, dimples lifting dean’s heart a little bit. he can do this, he thinks. maybe celebrating life isn’t that bad – especially not when his little brother is with him, smiling so happily.

they sit down together, watch porky’s, and throw half-assed insults at each other. it’s a soft day and dean loves it. loves it right until he hears a choked sob from sam’s room, strangled whisper of _jessica_ halting him in his tracks. for a moment, he considers walking inside and comforting his brother. the idea is painfully tempting.

but he finds himself back in his own room, biting on his palm to quell the sudden rise of a wail. _she isn’t there because of him_. his brother is alone because of him.

dean hates himself everyday, but on his birthday, it’s so much worse.

his fingers find his mother’s photo, calluses catching against the old paper, her blinding smile as strong as ever. dean apologizes to the image; rolls the word in his mouth a thousand times, but the ache in his soul refuses to rest. 

the photo falls to the floor, and he does too.

hours later, his brother finds him with a fist in his mouth and tears in his eyes.

sam’s heart fractures, millions of shards escaping his rib cage and cutting the surrounding skin. it’s such immense pain that he falls down beside his brother, crumpling into a broken mess. they both weep – long line of sorry’ stumbling out of dean’s mouth, every mistake he’s ever made laid out bare. sam rocks him through it, whispering forgiveness gently, softly, calmly through his own tears. dean holds on to him so tightly that he feels his breath halt in his lungs.

they fall asleep like they always do; sins heavy in their heart and mistakes stamped onto their tongues. but here, in this mess of bodies, they are together and they are alive – and for tonight, that is everything.

\---------


End file.
